


To Get You Out of My Head

by colpapabear



Category: Hogan's Heroes (TV 1965)
Genre: Bickering, Choking, Enemies to Lovers, Heart-to-Heart, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Morning After, Rough Kissing, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:35:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24304519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colpapabear/pseuds/colpapabear
Summary: --- “It’s not about women,” he continued with quiet anger, giving in to the urge to talk about it before they opened that bedroom door and the moment would be gone forever, “or about being lonely or whatever you think you know about prison life.” His tone suggested that Klink knew nothing. Which he didn’t. “Or what you think you know about me.” ---Hogan keeps having dreams about the camp Kommandant. They frustrate and confuse him. All he wants is for them to stop, to finally get Klink out of his head. And then suddenly his hands are wrapped around Klink's throat and their lips pressed together....
Relationships: Robert Hogan/Wilhelm Klink
Comments: 20
Kudos: 33





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> My friend and I decided for me to edit the more memorable ones of our roleplay plots into fanfiction and publish them. 
> 
> As such, chapters one and two are cowritten by bossasbatch.

Hogan startled awake. 

For a moment drowsy confusion still slowed his thoughts like glue as he tried to discern between dream and reality. Then the vague outlines of his office took shape in the darkness around him. 

Everything was quiet. It was still the middle of the night, at least before dawn or roll call, he realised. 

His hand formed into a fist and he punched down onto the mattress with muted frustration. Not again.

The bunk bed creaked as he sat up. Cringing, he tried to ignore his body’s reaction to the unwelcome images that his subconscious had produced. This was getting ridiculous. He didn’t understand why the dreams kept coming but he knew it had to stop. It was driving him crazy. 

Maybe he already was... Why else would he dream about-- A shudder ran down his spine and he pushed the thought away. No, just a stupid dream. If it showed anything, then that he’d been here too long, in this damn camp, in this damn war, far away from home.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of one of the pictures pinned to the wall right next to his bed and he turned his head to look at it. Even in the darkness he was able make out the familiar outlines of the pinup girl’s body, her perfect curves and long legs. That was more like it. 

Briefly he entertained the idea of slipping his hand beneath the blanket but dismissed the thought as quickly as it had come. The feeling of shame that accompanied his dreams still sat heavily in the pit of his stomach and the mental images were just waiting to bubble up again at first bidding. He’d tried that once. Hadn’t made it better. 

With a huff he lay back down. Just back to sleep it was then. If he focused on the thought of the cute pinup girl instead of some balding kraut, he’d be okay. 

But damn him, he thought. This was all his fault.

Damn him to hell. 


	2. Chapter 1

Maybe it had been bound to happen one day but Hogan had really assumed it would be over something a little less trivial than a few stolen red cross packages. God only knew how it had all escalated so quickly from their usual bickering but what Hogan knew for sure was that it had to be Klink’s fault. 

He was the enemy. A fool. And a coward. Everything Hogan hated. Night after night it was the same thing: uncomfortable dreams followed by guilt and confused arousal. All he wanted was for them to stop, to finally get Klink out of his thoughts. Of course the camp Kommandant had no idea of this but he had certainly managed to push all his buttons - shouldn’t have, but had. A dumb argument, a snide remark too many...

… and he’d simply lost it. 

His hands where tightening around Klink’s throat before he knew it, the urge to just squeeze the life out of him overwhelming.

With a strangled noise, Klink reached for his wrists to try and free himself. His eyes went wide with fear, causing his monocle drop to the floor where it splintered into pieces. Hogan roughly pushed him up against the office wall, blinded by rage and with no intention of letting go. 

As if he suddenly remembered how to fight, Klink stopped his attempts to pull free and instead landed a swift punch to Hogan’s stomach. 

Gasping, the American let go off his neck and stumbled backwards. It was only then that common sense returned as if it had been punched back into him, a realisation of what he was even doing. Speechless he watched Klink fill his lungs with air again. He’d get shot for this, ran through his head, followed by the realisation that in that case it didn’t really matter anymore. 

“Damn you, Klink,” he growled and closed the distance between them once more. Before the other had a chance to yell for the guards he grabbed his uniform lapels and pressed a rough, desperate kiss onto his lips. 

A surprised squeak came from Klink, muffled against Hogan's mouth. Still ready to fight, he briefly struggled before he stilled and tentatively moved his lips against Hogan's. Then, as if a flip had been switched, he kissed back with with sudden urgency. 

Hogan hadn’t expected Klink to kiss back, let alone with such hunger. In all fairness, he hadn’t planned this far ahead. For once, he wasn’t overthinking. For once his thoughts were blank and the only thing on his mind was the feeling of Klink’s mouth on his, after so many nights when dreams had haunted him. With a quiet moan he pushed himself against Klink, pressing their bodies together. Eventually he had to pull back for air but couldn’t bring himself to meet Klink’s gaze. “I hate you,” he whispered. 

“The feeling is mutual, Hogan,” Klink muttered, voice a little hoarse. “I’m so sorry that me doing my job made you so frustrated.” 

Hogan’s heart was beating heavily in his throat and he ground his teeth together. “I ought to wring your neck,” he snarled, leaning in even closer. “One Nazi less in the world.” Instead he placed a slow sloppy kiss onto the German’s mouth. It felt too good, far too good, and he cursed himself for enjoying it so much. He wasn’t even sure if he believed in God but he knew he was going to hell for this. 

Something between a groan and a growl escaped Klink as the kiss was deepened. He bit Hogan’s bottom lip in retaliation  and the American half gasped, half moaned against him. That little gesture was a taste of exactly what he wanted: not sweet, not gentle but aggression and violence wrapped up in months and months worth of unresolved sexual tension. While one hand remained firmly holding onto the cloth of Klink’s uniform, he moved the other back up to his neck where he let it rest against his throat. This time there was no genuine threat in the gesture. Instead his fingers stroked and scratched teasingly across the skin, as if to remind Klink that he had just almost taken his life. 

“Are you really gonna try to pretend like you’re in charge here?” he mumbled between kisses, to which  Klink gave an unhappy grunt. 

“I will not let some American dominate me,” he warned. 

“Yeah?”, Hogan replied and leaned back enough to look at him with a challenging expression. “Then prove it! Huh? Go on!” 

For a moment, Klink seemed to hesitate but then in a surprisingly swift motion pushed away from the wall, grabbed for Hogan’s leather jacket and threw his body weight against him, pinning him against the shoddy wallpaper instead. 

Clearly pleased with himself, he gave a triumphant smile. “Well?”

Hogan just looked at him in stunned disbelief for a second before letting out a small laugh. “More like it.”

Encouraged, the German reached for his wrists and Hogan didn’t resist when his hands were pinned against the wall either side of his head. 

“Don’t mock me, ” Klink warned and leaned in to run the tip of his tongue up the American’s neck, sending a shiver through Hogan. 

Warmth pooled in his lower belly, sickly and toxic but addictive. As he felt Klink’s fingers tighten around his wrists he half-heartedly squirmed against his hold. A whimper worked it’s way up his throat but the sound was swallowed up by a pair of warm lips on his again. 

Eagerly Hogan returned the kiss, opening his mouth to shove his tongue between Klink’s lips. This was a whole new side of Klink and he couldn’t help but find it endlessly appealing. It was difficult to respect, let alone desire someone when they were as spineless as Klink. Maybe that was why he had picked so many fights with him over the past weeks and months, purposely trying to provoke whenever possible. Who knew he’d have to go as far as strangle the other to get this side of him to show. 

Without breaking the kiss Hogan struggled against Klink’s grip with surprising difficulty but eventually twisted his hands out of his grasp. He wrapped his fingers back around Klink’s uniform lapel and pushed off the wall. Making the other stumble backwards he walked them across the room until Klink’s back collided with the door leading to his private quarters. Hogan was leaning against him with most of his body weight and broke the kiss, teeth tugging at Klink’s bottom lip as he did so. 

“This isn’t the right place for this, don’t you think?”, he said and reached down to unbutton the German’s uniform jacket one by one. He then shoved his hands beneath the thick cloth, fingers roaming across his torso before grabbing at his waist. “How about we take it somewhere more private?”

“Not the right place...?” Klink echoed, mind clearly struggling to catch up, while Hogan distracted him by kissing up and down his neck. Then understanding seemed to dawn on him. “Oh. Right.”

A small click sounded as he turned the doorknob and the door gave way. Unprepared, Hogan yelped as they stumbled through to the other side. 

They shuffled a few feet into the room before Hogan let go of him and turned around to close the door behind them. Swiftly he turned the key in the lock and leaned against it casually to watch Klink undo his tie. With a smirk, he unzipped his leather jacket and shrugged it off his shoulders while he looked Klink up and down, like a hungry predator eyeing his prey. Carelessly he dropped it to the floor and pushed off the door to stride over and grab his face, pressing a passionate kiss onto his lips. 

With a pleased little sound, Klink returned it and let his hands slide across Hogan’s chest before grabbing a hold of his button up shirt. 

“Careful,” Hogan mumbled against his lips with a small smile, ”I don’t have that many,” but made no move to slap his hands away. 

“The English one can fix it,” Klink replied but let go with a frustrated huff. “Why must these uniforms be so bloody tedious?” He shrugged off his jacket. 

Hogan watched as he turned to toss it onto the back of the couch. “Get on with it,” he demanded. Eager fingers grabbed at Klink’s shirt, pulling it out of his trousers and slipping beneath it. He gripped at his skin on the other man’s waist, leaving faint red marks to remind him that he wasn’t going to go gentle. 

The German let out a startled “ah!” and broke the kiss. “Alright...” he breathed heavily, “Lassen Sie uns unser grobes Spiel fortsetzen.*” Carelessly he yanked the shirt out from Hogan’s trousers so he could pull it off him. Then he leaned in to hungrily place a trail of kisses, bites, and quick flicks of his tongue down to his collarbone. While his mouth was busy, his hands wandered around the exposed skin, occasionally giving a scratch or simply feeling him.

Hogan’s belly did an excited jump when Klink bit down on the skin by his collarbone a little harder than expected. A breathless moan escaped him. He dug his fingernails into the flesh of Klink’s hips and let his head fall back to give him full access to his throat. He closed his eyes and just took in the feeling for a moment. This was real; this was actually, really happening and he wouldn’t wake up from this panting and confused like from all those dream he’d had. 

He was violently pulled out of his thoughts by the sudden feeling of a hand tightening around his throat. With a gasp Hogan opened his eyes and instinctively his hands shot up to grab at Klink’s wrist. 

The German was smirking at him. “I’m simply returning the favour,” he said, giving a small squeeze. 

Within seconds Hogan started to get light-headed and a jolt of panic went through him. 

“Not pleasant, is it?” Klink commented but loosened his grip a little with a benevolent smile when he found he’d made his point.

The realisation that he could breathe settled in alongside the recognition that this was a game. 

And games Hogan played to win. 

“I bet you’re loving this,” he croaked with some difficulty thanks to the fingers still around his throat, “in charge for once in your life.” Mocking the German probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do considering his current position but but when had that ever stopped him.

The amused smile on Klink’s face faltered into irritation. “Even when being choked, you still insist on talking,” he said. With a little warning squeeze to his neck, Klink leaned in close enough to let his lips graze Hogan’s. “It makes me wonder if your big mouth is good for anything else?”

Hogan gave a surprised little noise when Klink’s hand momentarily tightened around his throat. Still, there was a satisfied grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. The hairs on his arms stood on end at Klink’s following words and how his lips barely brushed against his own. With half closed eyes and his chest rising and lowering erratically he muttered back hoarsely, “Why don’t we find out?” He let go of the hand around his neck and instead reached out to pull on Klink's middle and push groins together, an unmistakable suggestion. 

Klink’s breath hitched and he let go of his neck in surprise. “Don’t make me regret this,” he grumbled, at least trying to remain intimidating.

Hogan took a deep breath to fill his lungs with the air that had been difficult to come by before he leaned in to place one more kiss on the other’s lips. Then he took a small step back, so he could look at Klink’s face with a half amused, half lascivious smile. 

“Colonel,” he said, “Have I ever disappointed you?” Then slowly he sank to his knees in front of him, making it a point to not break eye contact for maximum effect. 

This was a game he intended to win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * "Lassen Sie uns unser grobes Spiel fortsetzen" --- "Let us continue our rough game."


	3. Chapter 2

“Hogan… why?” 

The quiet question pulled Hogan out of this thoughts. He was still sitting on Klink’s bed, naked, his bottom half covered by white linen sheets. From there he was watching Klink get dressed in silence. Now that the afterglow began to fade it was replaced by sort of numb feeling. If he hadn’t been the type of person who never had regrets, that was what he would have called it. He had slept with Klink; willingly and enthusiastically and the reality of it was crashing down on him while he simply remained sitting still, eyes following the other around the room. 

It took him a moment to react to the question. “Because I thought maybe then I’d get you out of my head,” he answered truthfully for once. 

From the other side of the room, Klink winced. “Why?” he repeated impatiently as he grabbed a pair of trousers to slide on. “I understand it gets…rough being in a prison camp with no women but, out of everyone, why me?”

A humourless laugh worked itself up Hogan’s throat and he voiced it carelessly, raising his hand to rub his temples. “Would you just shut up for once in your life?” he said, “There’s nothing special about you. Look at you.” 

There was absolutely nothing special or attractive or endearing about Klink. Nothing. The older man was everything he despised. He could have any woman he wanted - heck, probably at least a fifth of the men in this camp, too, if he put his mind to it - and yet it was damn Klink who visited him in his dreams night after night after night, Klink who quickened his pulse and Klink whom he had readily dropped to his knees for. It wasn’t fair. 

“It’s not about women,” he continued with quiet anger, giving in to the urge to talk about it before they opened that bedroom door and the moment would be gone forever, “or about being lonely or whatever you think you know about prison life.” His tone suggested that Klink knew nothing. Which he didn’t. “Or what you think you know about me.”

Klink threw him an irritated look. “Right, because I’m just the stupid idiot who has no backbone,” he remarked. “Tell me, Hogan, do you have anyone who uses you? As a punching bag? As a tool? A toy? And once they’re done with you toss you aside without a care?” He walked over to sit on the edge of his bed. From there he stared down his counterpart. “Then educate me, Colonel Hogan. What is it about? And please, no nonsense. At least for once be honest.”

Every word from the German felt like a slap to the face and filled him with an unexpected wave of guilt. Yes, he had used Klink over and over again; humiliated him, endangered him, treated him as nothing but a tool with little regard to the other’s feelings because in his head that was what Klink had to be for Hogan to do his job: a tool, dehumanized and replaceable. But to be confronted with it by the man himself, the pain he caused so evident in his voice and words, made him want to crawl out of his skin. This wasn’t him. 

It took Hogan an uncharacteristically long time to find an answer. The silence spread long enough for Klink to grow impatient, give a small huff and move to get up again with a shake of his head. He stopped in his tracks, however, when Hogan finally spoke up. 

“I dream about you.”

Surprised, Klink sat back down. “You dream about me?” he asked as if he needed confirmation he’d not misunderstood.

Hogan nodded. “Yeah,” he said. He owed Klink that much. “Almost every night and I don’t know why.” He looked up at Klink, imploring him to understand, “Because I shouldn’t, because you’re my enemy. Don’t you get that?” 

Klink just stared at him in disbelief.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” the American continued, ”But I give you my word, I didn’t just use you for the hell of it. Not this time.”

It was Klink’s turn to fall silent while he processed that information. “Well, you’re the first to say that,” he eventually replied with a small scoff, “I don’t know who has it worse between you and me. You seem to want something you despise and know you shouldn’t want. Meanwhile I crave for something that, not only is _out of my league_ , as I’m sure you say in English, but also highly forbidden. I don’t know how America stands on the topic but here if you’re not the Reich’s idea of perfection you’re _killed_.” All the same, a small tired smile curled his lips. “You’re a blessing and a curse, Hogan. You manage to do things with just the wave of your hand and you charm everyone you meet. Well, now we both have to pay for it. It seems to me the strangest things happens in an even stranger war.”

Hogan nodded. A strange war indeed. He looked back up to study Klink’s face. All of the sudden it became clear to him that he had never listened to anything the German had ever said, not really, not actually listened and taken in what he’d heard. He had sat and feigned interest more times than he could count, filtered out useful information or simply nodded when it seemed appropriate while his mind was scheming away. But had he ever actually listened to Klink like his words had value? No. 

“Why did you do it?” he asked and found he genuinely did want to know. “I mean, this could get you killed. Both of us! Heck, I almost killed you! Why would you want me after that?” ‘Except for the obvious reason’ lay on his tongue but he swallowed the joke. He didn’t feel like wisecracking right now.

Klink seemed to be not quite know how to handle such an earnest question all of the sudden. “You…do things to me, Hogan,” he tried to explain, “You have a way that just melts my core. The way you talk, how you look... Even your lack of respect and disregard for the rules. Irritating, yes, but somehow irresistible.” His gaze fell away from the American down to his hands while Hogan’s stomach turned. 

It seemed like he had twisted Klink so tightly around his finger over the past years that the German had developed feelings for him. No, an _attraction_ , he corrected himself; there were no feelings involved in this.

“Hogan, I am sure if you actually wanted me dead, I would have been gone a long time ago. I don’t think my side would mind terribly,” Klink continued, “In a strange sense I am a prisoner, too. It’s illegal to be myself but every so often one must break free. Almost like you. There are very limited times I can recall you being out of camp but it’s clear to me you could leave just about any time you wanted to. Yet you stay.” Curiously, he looked to Hogan who stared back with growing alarm. “Today I escaped for a moment. As usual, I’m a fool for you. Now, I have to trust my enemy with information that could kill me.”

“I never wanted to kill you.” That much was true but Hogan was becoming increasingly aware of the danger he was putting not just himself but also his men and the entire operation in by being here. “Not even today. Not really. But you..” He trailed off, trying to chose his words wisely. “You don’t know anything about me like you think you do. At the same time you act like you know nothing… but that’s not true either, is it?” He took a deep breath and made a difficult choice. “Maybe then you’ll understand that I can’t promise you that I won’t try and use this against you. Not that I want to. Not for stupid, unimportant things. But if you give me no other choice - and that day might come - I won’t hesitate.” His voice was level as he said all this, not threatening. He considered this rare honestly a kindness towards the German officer. He gave Klink a sad smile and shrugged. “You see, you can’t trust me.”

Fear flickered across Klink’s face before it faded again. “I shouldn’t, but I do. That’s the worst part,” he admitted, “There have been countless situations where my life was in your hands. You even killed a man, somehow, to save me. It was my star, remember?” With a small huff of laugh, he shook his head. “I sound like a fool.”

The corners of Hogan’s mouth twitched upwards at the memory of Klink’s ‘lucky star’ and the the exploded train. Yes, he had saved Klink’s life, repeatedly so, but for what? So that their operation could continue. “Yeah, you do,” replied warmly, “but less than usual.” 

A new silence fell between them as they smiled at each other in mutual understanding. Momentary peace. 

It was Klink who broke it by clearing his throat. “I…would at least suggest that you get dressed,” he said, nodding towards the bed sheet that was still the only thing covering the American’s modesty. “It would be bad if someone walked in on this.” 

Hogan looked down on himself. Oh, right. “They’d probably think you’re a very lucky man,” he joked and scooted over to the edge of the bed and stood up, carelessly letting the sheet slide off his body.

He could practically hear Kink roll his eyes. “Yes, very amusing,” the German muttered but Hogan could feel his gaze rest on him for a while as he went on the hunt for his scattered clothing. 

Eventually, though, Klink got up as well. “My tie,” he sighed in a way that seemed a little too theatrical to Hogan to not be an excuse to leave and wandered off into the living room, leaving the American to his thoughts. 

How on earth had it come to this, he wondered as he looked around for his shoes. To have sex with Klink - was he mad!? To dream about it was one thing but to act on it? And then that talk which almost threw him more than the act itself. The repercussions this could have, the -- 

Shoes. He spotted them by the bedside and sat down to put them on. Now was not the time to think this over, he decided. It would have to wait until he was back in his office, alone, and with some peace and quiet. What mattered now was that he had to walk out of the Kommandantur as if nothing had happened and that he had to make Klink understand that was what he had to do as well. This had to never have happened. He finished tying his laces and sat up with a sigh. ‘Here goes nothing’, he thought and got up to go after Klink. 

He found the Kommandant in the living room. With feigned ease Hogan leaned against the door frame and crossed his arm in front of his still bare chest. “I see you found your tie.”

Klink glanced up from where he was tying his tie in front of a mirror. “Yes,” he replied distractedly, “I also found the rest of your uniform if you were wondering.” 

Hogan raised his eyebrows and his gaze went to his shirt that lay in a sad heap on the floor where he’d dropped it. “Without your help I would never have found it,” he quipped and went to fetch it. The getting dressed part of one night stands was always the weirdest, filled with too much awkwardness and forced politeness for his liking. 

He shrugged his shirt on and focused on buttoning it when he spoke up again. “You understand we can’t ever talk about this again.” It was less a question, more a statement. “Or repeat it.”

Klink gave a small huff. “I know that,” he replied and shrugged on his jacket, “With affairs like this, it’s a given that it should be considered a one time deal: you let everything out the one time and after it’s all done it’s forgotten and we act like nothing happened.” 

Hogan nodded. Klink was right - surprisingly. Now it was out of his system and he could move on. 

“Good,” he said firmly, ignoring the tiny voice inside that wanted to resist, wanted more of what he’d gotten a taste of. “I’m glad we understand each other.” He zipped up his bomber jacket halfway and walked over to the door connecting Klink’s quarters with his office. He turned the key in the lock but before opening it he turned to the other one more time. “Ready?” he asked.

Klink seemed to hesitate. “One more thing,” he said and stepped closer to reach for the American’s hand. Gently, brought it up to his lips. 

Stunned, Hogan watched Klink press a gentle kiss onto his knuckles and wondered why he felt so sad. The gesture was so soft and intimate his stomach twisted. It wasn’t that he disliked it. Maybe that was exactly the problem. He straightened his back when Klink let got of his hand and nodded. Formality helped to put distance between them and shove his emotions inside a small box. 

“Ready when you are,” Klink nodded. 

In one swift motion Hogan opened the door and walked through to the office. His hat was still where he’d left it, right on Klink’s desk. Once it had returned to its rightful place on his head he turned to the other who’d followed a few steps behind. 

“I assume I am dismissed, Kommandant?”

Klink just looked at him for a moment before finding the resolve to nod. “Yes,” he said but didn’t sound quite convinced, “dismissed, Hogan.”

They exchanged half-hearted salutes and Hogan left for his barracks. When he stepped onto the compound he looked around, squinting against the setting sun. 

A one time affair to get it out of their systems, he thought, and nodded to himself before heading towards barracks two. In that case he should have a dreamless night ahead of him.

Finally. 


End file.
